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RODNEY HELD HIS BREATH, frantically praying for some sort of salvation, while the sizzling noises below his feet got worse. Barcuss had only been panting beside his left ear for a few seconds before Rod heard him mutter, “What in the Deep’s that god-awful smell?”
Rodney started coughing on the fumes. Barcuss too. It was getting bad. The insulation was on fire down there!
“Dammit I need you on the move!” growled Barcuss, patting at his pockets with one hand without taking his eyes from Heulenstein. “What did I do with my knife? Bruff? Bruff, answer me! Have you got my knife? Bruff?!”
Bruff didn’t reply, unless a groan of mortal dread amounted to an answer.
“Willis! Get here with your knife!”
“Kind of busy!” came an angry reply from about two stacks away, followed by a pistol shot, which was quickly answered by another sizzling bang from Bunszen. Lightning shot up an insulator and a thick cable burst apart on top of one of Heulenstein’s incomprehensible contrivances. Frayed metal came down in a shower of sparks and Willis, presumably underneath, uttered a variety of colourful phrases.
Heulenstein was distracted, “Stop shooting my machines!” he screamed, then looked the other way. “Knowles, get up off the floor and fetch me a fire extinguisher!” But like Bruff, it seemed Knowles wasn’t able to obey. Rodney remembered the name now: the clean-shaven boyish-looking one. Dead? No time to wonder. Rodney was at that moment contemplating his own untimely death due to the inhalation of pee-flavoured rubber smoke.
“Untie me, sir!” he gasped at Barcuss desperately, ‘Have a mercy!”
He folded up from coughing fit and so did Barcuss. It was at that moment that Heulenstein decided he had some sort of chance at a clean shot, but it never happened. The wiring beneath Rodney’s boots gave out with a bang and a flash, and the place went dim. Rod flinched upwards as best he could within his bonds, everything shook and wobbled, but he remained trapped.
Barcuss swore most violently, indicating that he too had survived. He came up coughing and resumed with the gun-to-the-head stance as before, peering towards where Heulenstein had been. The entire chamber now seemed dim, and Rod was most relieved to realise that without those lights, Heulenstein was disarmed!
Barcuss realised this too and bellowed triumphantly, “Hah, now you lose, Hubert! You so lose! So listen up, loonie! Tell your muscle-heads to put down their weapons and stand in the middle there with you where I can see you all. And don’t touch a goddamn thing or pretty boy here gets it in the brain! Think about that, Hubert. Could you ever look your sweet little daughter in the eye again if you make me do this? Huh? Huh? I don’t think you could!”
Barcuss raised his voice a little more, “You got that, Willis?”
Silence.
“Willis?”
There was a soft thud.
Barcuss muttered a worried expletive under his breath. He and Hubert both began to glance around nervously.
Revived by the distant hope that something was at last going his way, Rodney held on to his sanity and began looking at the situation again. He spied big Bunszen creep out from cover, peering with puzzlement towards where Willis presumably was. Heulenstein could see her, but Barcuss couldn’t quite. But another step and she would be exposed. As Rodney wondered whether to shout a warning, she suddenly slapped a hand to her neck as if stung by an insect.
“Ow!”
She groped just above her collar, puzzled and cross, but as her fingers closed onto the insect or whatever it was, her eyes rolled back in her head and her knees gave way and she went down with a thud. Her big shooter clattered away. Heulenstein started towards her, changed his mind, glanced back at Barcuss, and at that moment all the rest of the lights went out.
“Willis!” roared Barcuss, “Do something! Get them!”
Heulenstein was simultaneously shouting, “Who did that? Bunszen! Bernard! Get the lights on! Anyone there? Knowles?”
Beside him, Rodney heard Barcuss fumbling with a box of matches.
Then he noticed an odd vibration in the metal walkway as if swift feet were racing towards them. Barcuss uttered a single noise: a little gasp of panic, followed swiftly by a second noise: this time a complete howl of terror. Something very heavy hit the walkway right beside Rodney, sending a shudder through his feet, but in the utter darkness he had no idea what had happened. More bumps. Another gasp of pain. Moments later he felt quick determined hands grasping and groping at his body. For a moment he was startled and fearful, then the mysterious groper spoke close to his ear. “All’s well. Follow me. No questions.”
His heart leaped, and if his lungs were not so punished he would have shouted with joy. Instead he tugged himself free as his bonds were progressively cut, then followed Romarny blindly, blundering over Barcuss just a few steps on.
“Is he...”
“Shh.”
He imagined her with her hands outstretched, groping forwards in the dark, or perhaps wearing some miraculous pair of goggles to find her way. Either way her guidance was quick and confident. Once he was off the walkway her pace quickened. After some twists and turns and a glancing collision with something extremely hard and lumpy, he felt his hand pulled forward to where it encountered a familiar softness.
“It’s Rodney,” he heard Romarny whisper. Karla didn’t answer, at least not in words. It was more of a choked gagging noise.
“Take care of her,” ordered Romarny, still a-whisper. The butt of his sword was pushed into his hand and the Firetail was gone. It was at this point that Rod realised there was in fact a faint light still present. He’d been blinded by the abrupt change in lighting levels, not by its complete absence, and now he was beginning to adapt.
All this was undertaken while Heulenstein, still obviously unharmed, bellowed demands and called for lights and fire extinguishers and even a plate of tea-cakes. Finally he called out, “Wherever you are, Barcuss, you don’t frighten me!” It soon changed to, “Look, maybe we could go on a little longer, old friend, there’s still so much to discover! You can have one of my guns, sure! I can always make another.”
Then it turned to, “Stop this rotten game, I know you’re there!”
Heulenstein was moving steadily around the laboratory as if he was working his way to some particular point, oblivious to how he was constantly giving away his position.
Suddenly it all changed. “Hey! Let me go! Ow! Don’t! Ow! No, no, not the trousers!”
Rod heard her then shout two words in an odd language and immediately he heard a distant switch being thrown, presumably by some accomplice. The main lights were back on. Rodney was momentarily disoriented, but quickly made sense of his location. He was standing beside Karla who was tied to a giant machine in a corner well back from all the action. He cut her loose with his sword. She immediately reached up and, with an alarming nearly-vomiting sound, pulled a handkerchief from her mouth and flung it on the floor.
“Revolting! How do I know she hadn’t blown her nose on it?”
“Shush, shush, everything’s alright now,” he said soothingly, “Hush.” But he was also trying to listen to something else that was going on behind him.
“Whoever you are, you won’t get away with this!” Heulenstein, still blathering. “Stop. Put that back! Oh, so you found them both. Hah! You’ll never discover the diff... Wait, wait, No no no no no! Keep that away from me!”
Distressed, Karla set off towards these sounds at a run, and Rod went with her. They had only managed three steps before there was a scream, followed by further histrionics from Heulenstein, which suddenly dropped to a mumble then expired in a most disturbing way.
They rounded the final corner and came upon her father in the centre of his laboratory, lying upon his back and with his trousers down and his hands bound. Romarny the Firetail was crouched over him and in the very act of putting something into one of her many pouches. Rod had glimpsed it; a short fat syringe. Maybe?
He also noted that she wore a black eye-patch just above one of her eyes, as if she had pushed it up after wearing it for some reason.
Still clamped above the workbench was the all-important Charm, but as Rod reached for it he began to remember what he had seen. There were two of them. One was the original, and one was an exact duplicate. He panicked, trying to remember which was which.
Then his brain spun up to speed. Heulenstein had done a switch upon the arrival of Barcuss. Thus the one in the clamp was the replica. Under the bench was the real Charm. Unless ... Romarny could have switched them again; devious little vixen!
The woman in question was standing up, buckling her pouch as she kept an eye on her victim. She spoke first, noting Karla’s worried look. “It’s just a powerful soporific to keep him calm. He’ll be fine.” There was an odd noise coming. She glanced that way, but seemed unworried. “Right, so Rod, we’ve got to leave immediately.”
“Leave!” cried Karla, “Why ever for?”
“Because things have changed. You heard the King. He’s out for your head now, trust me!”
Rod was not entirely convinced. “Yes, but...”
“Rod, you’re in mortal danger here! You have to leave.”
“Oh no,” roared Karla, grabbing him painfully, “not without his wife he won’t.”
“Um, honey,” said Rodney, “we’re not quite married yet.”
Karla’s face turned red with rage, “Don’t you ‘honey’ me!”
“Point of order, Karla,” interrupted Romarny firmly, “I didn’t at any time say you couldn’t come with us.”
“And just who the Deep are you anyway?” demanded Karla, arms akimbo.
Romarny glanced at Rod. He suddenly felt awful. He was a failure as a gentleman! “Oh! Um, Karla, this is The Firetail. Um, um...” He was unsure whether to give her name, so he didn’t. “Firetail, this is my fiancée Miss Karla Cluely. You finally meet. Huh. Hah-hah.”
Karla gasped and took a quick step away at the word ‘Firetail’, but Rodney caught her gently and prevented a full escape. “It’s fine, it’s fine. We’re... sort of friends. She’s safe.”
“Safe?” repeated Karla doubtfully, looking down at her father.
“He’ll be fine,” repeated the Firetail with confidence, “He’ll just sleep it off.”
Rod tried to catch Romarny’s eye right then but she seemed to be avoiding him. They heard a sound, and turned. It was Mr Karakuri, standing quietly and leaning heavily upon a walking stick. Rod wondered what had happened to him, but never got the chance to ask. Instead he swiftly embarked on further introductions to make up for his earlier failure.
“Karla, this is Mr Karakuri. Mr Karakuri, this is my fiancée Miss Karla Cluely.”
“Charmed to meet you, Miss.” He gave her a slight nod, then his eyes swung towards her father, deathly still upon the floor, then on and up to meet Romarny’s eye. She made a single brief gesture but Rod noted it, remembering her mastery of sign language. Was it ‘Yes’?
What had they just discussed?
“What about the others, though?” asked Rod, suddenly remembering the gun fight, the cries of pain, the bodies he had stumbled over, etcetera.
Romarny was getting increasingly snappy, “They’ll be fine. Let’s get moving!”
“I’m not fine,” gasped a voice nearby.
They hurried to him. It was the whiskered chap. Seemed he had taken a bullet to the knee. He was lying clutching it. There was a lot of blood, and he was very pale. Karla swiftly organised a tourniquet using Rodney’s sleeve, which he willingly tore off. Romarny snapped a short length of brass out of Heulenstein’s experimental rigging to twist the binding tight, and they soon had the wound secured.
Karla then patted her patient kindly. “You’re going to make it, Bernard.”
The fellow managed a faint smile, then fainted.
After that there was no stopping Karla. She went around everyone, assessing the damage. Knowles was quite dead, poor fellow, and so too was one of Barcuss’ henchman. It was a hideous sight. He had been hit by one or possibly two of the big sunray guns and was now a ruptured and almost unrecognisable corpse that smelled of singed wool, burnt hair, cooked meat and raw viscera. They all swiftly turned away.
“I’m getting Bernard to the hospital!” declared Karla, obviously revolted by the mess her father’s invention had done, “And I’m destroying all of those evil things as soon as I return!”
Romarny sighed. “There isn’t time, Karla. Bunzen will be awake in ten minutes, then Barcuss and his man. I’ve got them hog-tied so they shouldn’t be a bother to us, but I’d rather get away before then. Barcuss would sell us out to anyone just to save his neck.”
“I’ll do it,” offered Mr Karakuri, “I’ll get the man to the hospital, and destroy the guns. You get away while you can.”
“Good. Thank you. And Karla, can we alert the staff up at the Science Works? I expect there will still be a few around?”
Karla nodded. “In the gatehouse; three permanent staff; but I know a few of the others were going to stay on for the fireworks. Oh, and where is Mr Berm? Mr Berm! Are you still here?” Rod had quite forgotten him. The poor wretch emerged, hunched and shaking, one eye now completely closed from the drubbing Barcuss’ thugs had given him. Had he fainted or something, or simply hidden? Rodney never did find out.
“Miss Karla,” Berm began apologetically, “I’m so sorry...”
“Never mind. Just show Mr Karakuri how to go up. You can use that elevator?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Just get Bernard to the hospital as fast as you can.’
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’ll need to make a stretcher,” said Rodney immediately.
“I know just the thing,” announced Karakuri, hobbling away. Berm went with him, a nervous wreck. Rod hurried after them, intending to expedite a swift solution.
Meanwhile, Romarny took the moment for a private word with Karla.
“You know we have met before, Karla.”
“What! When?”
“Remember when we had to get your mother out of town? You were - what? Fourteen at the time?” Karla nodded. “All those strangers coming after dark and sitting up late, talking. Remember the pretty lady who always brought a little cheese for you?”
Karla’s eyes grew wide, “Miss Fromage?”
Romarny laughed. “I made the name up.”
Karla stared at Romarny. “So, you’re actually a good villain?”
“I try. Now I must advise you of the seriousness of the situation. It’s likely the King will tar everyone with the same brush over this. Mennase pulled the trigger but Attar already has it in for Rodney, as you might have heard. And as for you? Attar has a way of using hostages to get at his enemies.” She glanced around as if not quite believing they were entirely safe. “And his friends,” she added wryly.
Karla seemed suddenly close to tears. “Can I at least go up and get changed?”
Romarny thought it through for a moment, then replied, “No.”
“Why the Deep not? This is my home! Who are you to be giving me orders anyway? Well, except you’re The Firetail, and you’re carrying a knife, and probably poison and stuff, and are those little bombs? They are, aren’t they? But anyway I don’t care!”
“Karla,” Romarny persevered in all seriousness, “if you are seen; if you are delayed in any way; if the King’s men arrive too swiftly or get some other clue we are down here ... There is simply too much at stake. Rodney is in grave danger.”
Karla’s face clouded over and her eyes became downcast, then her spirit rose up again with a shout, “Damn the King! He’s stupid and evil!”
The Firetail answered in a most unexpected way, “I heard that he looked at you and nearly cried. They say you look just like your grandmother.”
Karla kept wiping at her face but tears kept escaping. “And what of Lancieur?”
“Last I heard he was still breathing, so there is still some hope.”
“One good thing at least. Ah, here come the men.”
“We got the elevator working,” reported Rod, “and we made a stretcher. Um, Miss Firetail, can you help us lift him, please?”
“Yes, then let’s get away, alright?”
Karla went to her father immediately thereafter, squatted and placed one hand on his bony shoulder. “I’m sorry, Father, you’ll have to cope without me. And anyway, now I know what you have become... well; I will not be your good girl any more!”
Standing, Karla felt a terribly emptiness. It seemed her whole world was falling apart, and she was inexplicably missing her mother a great deal. Yet she felt ready to go, except for a decent set of clothes to wear.
She looked around. Bunszen lay asleep; a substantial mound of lard and leather. Karla wondered just how much extra of the drug she had needed. Probably finished The Firetail’s supply. She squatted and fingered the big girl’s new leather uniform.
Could I bear to wear these clothes? Maybe just the jacket? And those boots? Ooo yes they’re rather nice, aren’t they?My size too ...
Rodney and The Firetail arrived back to find Karla struggling to roll Bunszen over in order to get the jacket off. Together they got it free.
“Rather an ugly garment, my dear,” remarked Rodney as she threw it on. It disturbed him to see her so dressed.
“My shoulders were cold,” she replied, somewhat with a snap.
“Terribly sorry, my love, I never thought of it. Here, have my jacket.”
But Rodney’s jacket was already quite ruined. One sleeve ripped to shreds, the right shoulder torn so badly that the sleeve was hanging by mere threads, the buttons gone, not to mention two of the pockets and the collar, and it stank oddly of boiled pee – a result he had no intention of explaining.
Karla waved him off and tugging at her new straps to tighten it. She was now quite the sight; like a leather pear rupturing into candyfloss below the hem. She squatted beside Bunszen again and tugged off her boots, muttering, “You know, I liked you better when you just pretended to be stupid.” With the face of a girl exacting her righteous revenge, she hastily put the boots on. “Perfect!”
Romarny soon got them back on task, “We’re clear to go. Mister Karakuri will bring down the King’s men once we’re well clear. And have no fear for your Father, Karla. Karakuri will convince him that Barcuss and his desperadoes broke in and threatened to rob your poor fragile papa, only to be bravely rebuffed by his assistants even to the death of one. And thus Barcuss will finally be forced to face the justice ...”
“No!” interrupted Karla, aghast at the thought of a hideous public execution.
“...that he so richly deserves for his years of smuggling Suck throughout the world and for all the lives he has ruined by it,” finished Romarny fiercely.
“Suck?” echoed Karla, “The evil drug?”
“How do you suppose he funded your father’s secret works? All this was built upon the profits of misery.” She clenched both the Charms under her arms and turned towards the cleft via which they had all arrived, “Now we really have to go!”
Rod needed no prompting, but Karla lingered to whisper one final farewell to her father. It gave Romarny a chance to speak to Rodney in private. “Here.” She passed him Heulenstein’s little sunray hand-gun, “In your bag, please. I want to study it later.”
“I thought you...”
“Rod! Just do as I say for once. We’ve got a lot of dangers to get through. It might actually come in handy before this is over.”
He gave up arguing and glanced around, “Where is my bag? Ah!” It was waiting for him in the narrow connection-tunnel where they had first encountered Bunszen. He got the raygun hidden just as Karla joined them. They moved on. Only a few dozen yards on from there, Rod came to the place where he and Karla had... embraced, and to his amazement the mechanised stone door was now a pile of rubble. “Good idea, cracking this,” commented Romarny, as she stepped over it “We’d never have got through otherwise.”
“Thank Bunszen,” was all he replied as they negotiated the dangerous jump over the sewer ditch, “Hey, isn’t this the way back to the palace?”
“Yes. Sorry, but first we have to retrace our steps part-way.” And so saying, Romarny turned around and set her feet into the same marks she had made earlier. “Backwards.”
Rod had read enough mystery stories to know this idea. He found his own marks in the thick and ancient dust that smothered the floor beyond the flood-lines of the sewer and carefully positioned himself.
“This is ridiculous,” muttered Karla, but also complied. Fortunately the electric lighting was still on. They could see well enough to walk backwards. And so they were soon making their way like some sort of Wrong-Way-Willies, back along the same escape route they had followed earlier. It wasn’t easy.
“Why do we have to go back into the palace?” asked Rodney nervously as they got closer. This seemed insane.
“There is a secret way out that we decided to try if the worst happened.”
“The worst? So this is the worst, then?”
“It’s worse that the worst, actually, but I still have to stick to the plan.”
“But...”
“Hush. One more detail.” She had been carrying both of the Charms, the real one and the replica, and now she paused, squatted, and gently tossed one of them to the edge of the walkway at a shadowy point. “Decoy, since we have it.”
“Um, that’s the good one,” said Rod.
“No, I checked them, and kept good track since then.”
“I disagree.” He went past her, picked it up, and put it to his ear.
“Rod, you cannot hear it.”
“This is the real one, I tell you!”
“I checked them!”
“How?”
“In the laboratory. There was enough light to trigger the windstone effect.”
“Well you mixed them up.” He was rather cross with her.
“Rod,” she replied, sounding equally displeased, “Have you been lying to me?”
“What do you mean?”
“About the...” Romarny glanced around at Karla, “... the effect.” She tapped at his temple, none too lightly.
“I... ah... well...”
“Because I did know exactly which one I put down!”
“You were testing me?”
She just glared at him, squatted, swapped the two Charms and resumed her backwards trail-making. “Now let’s get you both out of Havencliffs until this all settles down.”
Rod and Karla resumed also, and not a dozen yards further on they passed a side door that he had not remembered from his first pass.
“Keep going,” said Romarny. “We’ll come back to it.”
They reached the clockwork door to the wine cellars and Romarny gestured for silence. She pressed her ear to the door in one of the few places afforded to her by its iron strapping and the mechanism. It didn’t take her long to hear what was happening. The entire door shook as a mighty blow struck it from the far side. She reeled away, clutching at her ear as if it had been punched.
“Run!”
They ran, trying to step into their previous foot marks, but it was impossible. The floor here had become a chaos of footmarks. Romarny got ahead and had the side door unlocked when they arrived.
“Jump! Leave no prints!” And she demonstrated, springing sideways with considerable athleticism. Rod got the idea at once. Karla too. They both took a jump to the left, then a step to the right. Romarny closed the door, even as they heard the hammer-blows intensifying. The first blocks of rubble were now hitting the floor and the voices of their pursuers sounded frightfully close. Their door shut.
Total darkness.
“We could use the charm,” suggested Rodney in a whisper.
“No, I have a light.” And a moment later, Romarny had something lit: a cold bright gem on a short brass handle. Its glare had on odd effect on Rod’s vision, thus he knew it was a metastone of some kind, but he didn’t bother trying to explain it. Romarny moved on immediately, leading them down a spiral stairway.
“What’s this?”
“A spiral staircase.”
“I see that,” he answered testily, still cross with her for tricking him with the Charm, “Where does it go?”
“Down.”
“Down where?”
“Have you ever heard of the Ladderways?”
Karla gasped, “No!”
“That’s right. No. It takes three days to descend to the Deepings via the Ladderways, so we’re taking a far more desperate option.”
“And what would that be?” asked Rodney.
“The Sluiceway.”
“Explain.”
“You’ll see it in time. And, if it is defunct, then we’ll have no other option but to try for the Ladderways. There is no way I want to go topside just now.”
The spiral kept on down, through increasingly ancient layers of stonework to end at a door made of crudely adzed timbers and black hammered ironware. Romarny pressed an ear to it for almost a minute, then relaxed and used a big old key in the lock, gesturing for silence. Surprisingly, the key turned without any great noise, nor did the hinges squeak. Rodney stooped and sniffed as he went through, something he remembered seeing his father do. Sure enough, the oil smelt fresh.
They were now in a very ancient catacomb, possibly the deepest layer of the palace, assuming it had been built progressively upon its former incarnations. It was dank, cool and musty with the smell of old oak and stale sherry, suggesting it was, or had been, a wine cellar.
Romarny was silent. Rodney dared not speak. After sniffing at the air a while as if she could smell danger lurking, Romarny took something from her bandolier and squeezed it twice, then once, then twice again, like a code. It produced a sound like a summer cricket.
Moments later the message was answered by a similar noise, followed by soft quick footsteps coming closer. Into view hove Jyves, wearing an expression of unalloyed delight the moment he saw the three of them together.
“What in the world was Karakuri doing?” he began crossly, “How could he have been so foolish!”
“Don’t worry,” replied Romarny, “he’s already made amends.”
“Good, I’m pleased to hear. My staff told me he’d been seen in the ...”
“Yes, yes, all sorted. But I’m now faced with a double curse. I think it is high time this was removed from Havencliffs. Heulenstein has seen it but I got it away from him, but hundreds of others saw it at the Ball. I left Karakuri’s replica in the old King’s Bolt, but...”
“Karakuri made a replica?”
“Yes. The very one he handed to The Chairman. That was the one taken by Barcuss and sold onwards to Von Heulenstein. It was a fake!”
Jyves sagged, “Balthazar died for a fake?”
“Yes. Karakuri is a very smart man, but he does things his own way. He admitted it was his way of protecting it, because he did not trust the Council.”
“Yes, then he pulls that stunt tonight! What was he thinking?”
“It’s done now. Any news on Mennase?”
“Nothing. They slipped away via the walls. Probably back to their ‘Nest’.”
“Did he really get here on that escape kite?”
Jyves became even more distressed, “Nothing adds up! Everyone has been giving me confused stories. I don’t know what to think.”
“It doesn’t matter. We just have to get away. And by the look of him, he won’t have much left in him tonight. Have you got the keys I need?”
“Yes, but...”
“It’s our best shot, Mr Jyves!”
“Yes, yes, but your chances of getting all the way to the airship works are slim, and getting out the other side even slimmer.”
“Yes, and slimmer than that along every other avenue I can think of.”
It was right about then that Rodney realised there was another way out: via Karla’s secret tunnel to the city streets. Damn! Why had he not remembered? And now the moment was gone! But then, what good would there be in walking the city at night? They would be glaringly recognisable, and have a long hike to reach the Lizzie.
And that was another thing. Exactly how was Romarny planning to finally escape? Yes, the Lizzie could take three at a pinch but with barely any ballast to play with. If they lost altitude on their target skyland they’d end up dead in the Deep.
Romarny, meanwhile, had continued her seemingly private conversation with Mr Jyves, “Anyway, I have a duty to these two. Rod’s saved my hump enough times now, and Karla deserves her chance at happiness.” Romarny turned specifically to Karla, “Were you not stifled here, my dear? Society’s outcast; forever lurking? ”
Karla seemed on the verge of tears yet again but she didn’t answer directly. Instead she lifted her chin bravely, “I’m willing to go wherever Rodney goes.”
“As a wife?” asked Romarny.
“Yes, as a wife.”
“Well I hear tell you are already quite the scientist. You even invented a better kind of tube clamp at the hospital. Wouldn’t you rather go as more than just a wife?”
“Well... I never thought... ”
“I’ll introduce you to a few people. I’m sure they’ll be impressed.”
“But I’m a woman.”
“And so am I! And so what?”
Karla seemed to inflate, to grow stronger. “Yes! Yes alright. Let’s go then!”
#
GORO KARAKURI SETTLED himself beside Hubert Von Heulenstein as the man struggled to wake from whatever treatment Romarny had given him. As the scientist became a little more coherent, Karakuri carefully explained that the treacherous Barcuss had given Hubert a hypnotic drug, then concluded with: “...and thus your memories will be affected for many days hereafter, sir, and may even become confused. Initially you will be very suggestible. For example, if I told you a woman in red underwear had recently accosted you, your mind will immediately fill itself with precisely such a memory.”
“Good gods! You’re right!” Heulenstein struggled to get off the floor, but was still very woozy. “Damn that Barcuss, damn him to the Deeping!”
“Relax, my good friend,” said Goro kindly, tucking his rolled-up frock-coat under Hubert’s head, “these fleeting hallucinations will pass in a day or two and then we can get back to our important work.”
“Our work?”
“Yes, yes. Remember? We recently met and agreed to form a new partnership in Science. You and me, developing wondrous inventions, discovering new forces, new ways to harness the powers of the universe. Why just today you were telling me about a means of releasing powers from the very heart of the sun.”
“I was?”
“Yes, yes. Now luckily I discovered your prototypes and just had time to hide them before Barcuss and his villains arrived. They’re safe, though a little wet. So when all this fuss has died down, what say we get them out again? I’d love to know exactly how you did it.”
Despite Goro’s nursing, Von Heulenstein still struggled mightily against the drug and soon got himself sitting up. He fought with his shaking limbs to get his spectacles positioned correctly, then peered up at his saviour. “Ah, now I recognize you! You’re that chap who made those mechanical women! At the Ball!”
Karakuri waved the compliment away, “Oh a modest achievement I suppose. But you, you are the true genius! I’m deeply honoured that you’ve made me a partner.”
“I have? You are?”
“You certainly did. Hush now! The King’s men are beginning to arrive.”
In a sudden panic, Hubert struggled onto his feet and looked around, then his eyes grew wide with astonishment. “Hey, this is Lab Two. How did I get here?”
“Trust me, Hubert,” said Karakuri just before he went to show the captain of the guard where the trussed prisoners lay, “Your secrets are my secrets, now.”
#
JYVES WAS GETTING AGITATED about the time. “I’d best be getting back before too much suspicion is aroused. I’ve been waiting here for over an hour already.”
“Then show us the way to the Sluice at once.”
“As you wish, but no-one’s used it for years. Can you be sure it’ll even work?”
The Firetail patted the row of small explosives she had on her bandolier, “Nothing one of these won’t fix.”
“I hope you’re right. But if it truly is unworkable, get back as soon as you can. I’ll check here again in a few hours if I can.”
They arrived at another ancient oaken door – this one blackened as if by years of sooty smoke or dirty hands. Jyves handing her a pair of keys, “This is not the King’s entrance. Just an access way for work crews, not that they’ve ever been down here since they built the railways. But I’ve kept it oiled. There should be useable lamps at the very bottom, on your left.” He then turned to Rodney, “Mr Hoverrim, an absolute pleasure to serve you, sir. And Miss Cluely, I’m sorry you’re mixed up in this, but I know I cannot argue with love.”
To Rodney’s surprise she curtseyed and said, “I thank you, sir, for all your help this last week.” Then averting her gaze she retreated a little and begin hastily tugging down the ruined remnants of her hairdo and re-building it into her usual plaits.
“Excuse me for remarking, miss,” added Jyves, “but I fear you’re not well dressed for travel. I regret I have not thought to provide for you as well.”
“Well,” said Karla, having already noticed how Rodney’s eyes were still constantly straying towards the scant red leathers of the Firetail, “I guess I shall just have to make a few running repairs!” She threw off Bunszen’s industrial-strength leather jacket and gripped at her voluminous skirts. With three strategic rips she cleared away most of the dross, then glared defiantly at Rodney. “Now, if you have to be constantly ogling some woman’s undergarments, they’d better be mine!”
She thrust the frothy remnants at Jyves, who kept his gaze high.
“Ah-hem,” he coughed, turning a little redder than usual, “as I said earlier, sir, your flight-suit is in the bag. I’m sorry, but ... Oh!”
He said ‘Oh!’ because Romarny had just done something that surprised them all. She had hugged Jyves ferociously, then kissed him on the cheek as well.
“Thanks, Jyves, you’re the best! Now promise me:” she added sternly, “If you’re in any danger, get out!” Without another word she turned to the door.
Rodney then seized Jyve’s hand and shook it hard, “Take care, old chap!”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you!”
“Will you come on!” hissed Romarny, pausing to urge them through.
Rod finished his farewell in an emotional silence. Seconds later he was hurrying down another steep set of stairs after the fleeting red ghost that was the Notorious Firetail – Scourge of the Air and of Civilised Nations Everywhere, and thoroughly glad that she of all people was in charge of their escape.